


Unwell: Prompts

by realmsoffreedom



Series: Unwell [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, F/M, M/M, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of prompts in the universe of the story, Unwell. Requests are open- feel free to request a prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. Here's the prompt series I've been wanting to put up. Now, I have five prompts left, not counting the one you're about to read- I'll close requests once I have ten, to give me time to catch up. This is the prompt for this oneshot-
> 
> Hey! :) im so excited for unwell prompts, and i have a prompt for it xx something about luke having a really bad flashback about his stepdad's sexual abuse to him? and maybe he has an extreme panic attack because of it, and everyone helps him and cuddles him afterwards xzz
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy- thank you for the support.

When I wake, I can already tell today isn’t going to be a good day. Ashton is still dozing to my left, but the gap between us is large- the warmth he exudes isn’t enveloping my bod, and I just feel cold, scared, and alone. Scooting closer to him, I entangle my freezing feet with his warmer ones, draping myself over his warm body.

 

He sighs in his sleep, subconsciously bringing his arms around to wrap around me. I squirm, almost uncomfortable. It’s not that he isn’t comforting and safe…I just can’t sleep very well anymore. Every time I close my eyes, haunting images of the heinous torture my stepfather put me through flash through my head. One image after another- almost like it’s some sort of movie.

 

“Mmm…Lukey?” Ashton mumbles, starting to stir. He blinks his eyes open groggily, tightening his arms around me. “Timesit?”

 

I manage to free one of my arms, reaching under my pillow for my phone. “8:37.”

 

Ashton nods sleepily, pulling me back into him. “What’re you doin’ up? S’still early.”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say honestly, not really paying attention to the conversation. My mind is on the nightmares- the dreams that I simply _can’t_ forget. I don’t understand why it’s so goddamn _easy_ to forget dreams, but so fucking _difficult_ to forget nightmares. It’s like my brain wants me to remember the shitty parts of my life. I’ve dreamed about marrying Ashton before- but of course, I can’t remember the details of the wedding. I _can_ however, remember the indescribable agony my body was put through, when my father came at me with a whip.

 

“Lukey.”

 

“Hm?” I shake my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts, and glancing into Ashton’s concerned eyes.

 

“You were lost in thought- something wrong?” Ashton asks.

 

“Just thinking,” I reply. “It’s not important- are we doing anything today?”

 

Ashton tilts his head, looking at me hesitantly. “Well…Cal, Niall, Mikey and I are going out…wanna come, or would you rather hang out with Grace and Larry Stylinson?”

 

“I’ll stay back,” I decide. “I wanna talk to Louis about something, anyway. What time do you have to meet them?”

 

“11.”

 

I nod. “Okay, then we have time for breakfast.”

 

Ashton smiles. “I’ll make you my world-famous pancakes.”

 

I snort. “World-famous? How come I’ve never heard of them before now, then?”

 

“You obviously haven’t paid attention to the news, _everyone’s_ talking about them.” Ashton plays along, his smile widening.

 

“Get your ass downstairs and whip some up, let _me_ decide whether they’re _really_ deserving that world-famous title.”

 

…

 

“Bye, Lukey. I love you. I’ll be home in a few hours, alright?”

 

Ashton leans down and kisses me gently, smiling into the kiss. When we pull away, he runs a hand through his messy curls, grabbing his car keys and slipping them into his pocket.

 

“I love you too. If I’m not here when you get back, assume I’m with Haz and Lou,” I reply.

 

“Alright. See you later, baby.”

 

And with a slam of the door, he’s gone. Within moments, I hear thundering footsteps- assuming he’s decided to take the stairs instead of the lift.

 

Sighing, I rise to my feet, and glance around the kitchen. The table is cleared- Ashton insisted on doing the dishes as well, so there really isn’t much for me to do- in terms of housework, that is.

 

I told Ash I’d go see Harry and Louis, but I don’t know if I want to- not just yet. Louis will immediately notice there’s something wrong- he knows me better than I know myself, at times.

 

The doorbell rings loudly, startling me out of my thoughts. Shaking my head and smiling, I assume it’s Ashton, he must’ve forgotten something.

 

I walk over to the door, and unlock it, pulling it open. It isn’t Ashton that stands in front of me- instead, it’s Louis.

 

“You’re coming with me,” He says, not bothering with a greeting.

 

“Any particular reason?”

 

“Ashton texted me,” Louis replies. “Said you told him you were coming to our flat. You didn’t show up yet- and I’m not letting you be here by yourself.”

 

“I’m not a child, Lou…I can take care of myself,” I mutter, staring at the ground. Do I really seem that immature to him?

 

“I never said you were a child.” Louis lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “But you _are_ schizophrenic, and even though Ashton said he watched you take your meds this morning, I’ve noticed the change in mood, these past few days.”

 

I sigh, relenting. If I argue, he will never back down. That’s just the way Louis is. “Fine, lemme grab my phone.”

 

…

 

“Any idea where the others went?”

 

I shake my head, lifting my can of Coke to my lips. I swallow, before speaking. “Not sure, I assume they went to get some new CDs, or out for lunch, something like that.”

 

“Yeah, I think Niall was telling me about this really good Italian place he wanted to test out…” Grace adds. “He wants to take me there on a date, but apparently he needs to see if it’s “up to his standards”…not sure what that means.”

 

“I think it’s sweet,” Harry says. “He really loves you.”

 

“I really love him too,” she replies, eyes sparkling. “He’s my everything.”

 

My mind wanders away from them, as I go back to the nightmares I’ve been having. Somehow, I just can’t tear my thoughts away from them- _he’s_ everywhere. He wants to haunt me…he wants to kill me. He wants to make my life absolutely miserable, and so far, he’s succeeded.

 

Emotional abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, I’ve seen it all. I am no stranger to any type of abuse- I know how it feels, and trust me, it fucking sucks. I’m no longer a virgin- thanks to being raped- multiple times- by the man I thought to be a father figure. Even thought it was a long time ago- the memory still haunts me. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

 

_“Going somewhere, worthless?”_

_I glance over at my stepfather, who’s sitting on the couch, watching an old movie and nursing a beer in his hands. More bottles lay astray at his feet, the entire house stinking of alcohol. It’s disgusting, and the smell makes me want to vomit._

_“I’m just going upstairs to do my homework, sir,” I whisper shakily, hefting my backpack higher on my shoulder._

_He chuckles humorlessly. “Oh no, you’re not. Your mother told me that she found you sneaking food yesterday- what do you have to say for yourself?”_

_I freeze._

_Panic seeps into my veins, my stomach clenching in fear. I can feel the dizzy feeling approaching- anticipating a beating. I always get a beating, if I don’t follow the rules. And the rules say, only one meal a day, no sneaking food, otherwise there will be consequences._

_“That’s right, Luke,” he sneers. And in one moment, he’s beside me, glaring at me._

_“And do you know what happens when you break the rules?”_

_I look to the ground, refusing to say a word. Arguing or protesting or trying to weasel my way out of this, will only make him angrier._

_“Answer me, you waste of space!” He grabs my shoulders and shakes me roughly, causing the gut feeling to only worsen, as my stomach does flip-flops._

_“I g-get punished…” I choke out, voice small and broken. “I’m sorry…”_

_“Ah, too late now.” He brings his face close to me, and I can smell the alcohol contaminating his breath. The mere smell makes me want to hurl, but I force the nausea back down. Throwing up will just piss him off even more._

_He drags me through the house, down into the basement. I wince as we go down every step, until he finally throws me to the corner, and I hit the ground with a thud. Pain flares in my limbs, but I ignore it, curling into myself._

_“This is why you shouldn’t break the rules, Luke…” he purrs, stalking over to me. He stands in front of me, shadow looming behind him, making him seem a lot bigger than he actually is._

_He unzips his pants, and my eyes widen. What the fuck is this? Usually, my punishment is the whip, or a beating of some kind…but he’s never…_

_“I decided we’d go with a new punishment today, worthless. I hope that’s okay with you.” He pauses a minute to laugh. “Oh wait, I don’t care.”_

I don’t even realize how fucked up my breathing is, until I find that I can’t get air. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, and there’s no way out. Tears are streaking down my face, I feel hot and cold at the same time, dizziness washing over me like a tidal wave.

 

“Luke, what’s wrong?! Oh my god, what’s happening to him?!”

 

“Luke, come on, are you with us? Answer me, come on Lukey, you’re okay, we promise.”

 

“Luke!”

 

I shake my head confusedly, curling further in on myself, shaking furiously and not daring to open my eyes. “G-Go away! I’m sorry; I’ll be a good boy! I’ll never disobey you again, just please don’t! Leave me alone!”

 

“He’s having a panic attack, Louis, what do we do?!”

 

I hear more muffled voices, but everything is foggy and blurry. I crack open my eyes, vision distorted, forcing me to close them again.

 

I wrap my arms around my knees, shaking and rocking in the corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. I want to die. I want to disappear. Someone kill me. Please, I would take anything, I can’t do this.

 

Suddenly, there are hands on my shoulders, and someone is talking to me. I blink, but he’s blurry and I can’t distinguish his voice.

 

“Luke,” the voice is saying. “Baby, come on, look at me. You’re okay, everything’s okay, I’m right here, I promise. No one is going to hurt you. He’s gone; he will never touch you again. You gotta calm down, baby.”

 

I blink, feeling my ragged breathing start to slow. My vision starts to clear, and I realize that _Ashton_ is in front of me. Niall, Louis, Mikey, and Cal are behind him, and I can see Harry and Grace on either side of me, all staring at me with worry etched on their faces.

 

“There you are, baby,” Ashton murmurs, leaning in to kiss the top of my head.

 

“A-Ash…?” I croak hoarsely.

 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Ashton replies. “You’re alright. You just had a really bad panic attack, but you’re okay now. Just keep breathing for us, deep breaths, alright? In, and out. In, and out. You’re okay.”

 

I force a weak smile onto my face. “M’sorry…”

 

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” Michael says firmly. “This is something you can’t control. You had a flashback, didn’t you? To one of the worst times…?”

 

I nod mutely, and he sighs. “I have those too…s’not fun. You’re gonna be okay, Luke. Just let Ashton love you and take care of you, he knows exactly how to make you feel safe again.”

 

Calum nods in agreement with him, draping his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “I’ve had to calm Mikey down more than once…rest helps. And cuddles.”

 

“I think we can do that.” I feel Ashton lift me into his arms, and I drape my own arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. He sits down on the couch, still holding me tightly.

 

“Thank you…for coming…” I whisper. “Needed you.”

 

Ashton holds me tighter, pressing his lips to my hair. “I will _always_ be there for you when you need me, baby. I love you.”

 

“So do we, Luke.” I hear Louis’ voice, and he grabs my hand, bringing it up to his lips. “We love you so much, it’s okay.”

 

“I love you guys too…” I mumble, burying my face in Ashton’s neck.

 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Go to sleep, you’re okay. None of us is leaving you. You’re safe, we promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, I'm sorry. I've been extremely busy, but now things have kinda calmed down- I'm hoping to post a prompt a week. This prompt is as follows: 
> 
> "2. I always thought there needed to be some part where Ashton is a little too caught up with his own problems and is kinda neglecting luke a bit. Like maybe when they're finally out or something and since Ashton is so good at making friends and like doesn't trust anyone and he could maybe have a relapse and starting to feel like he's not good enough for ashton"
> 
> Enjoy.

I knew this would happen at some point. 

When I first encountered Ashton, he was quiet. But as I started to get to know him better, as I started to become friends with him, I realized that he is not as quiet as I made him out to be. Ashton is outgoing, Ashton is loud, and Ashton is fucking _friendly_. Ashton is beautiful- but he and I are polar opposites. I struggle with crippling anxiety- bad enough that the only people I’m really comfortable talking with are Ashton and Louis. 

Ashton is my boyfriend, and he’s saved me in ways no one will ever be able to put to words. And Louis…Louis is the only reason I didn’t kill myself before, he’s my absolute best friend, and he always will be. My other friends are nothing short of amazing, but those two are special. With everyone else, I feel like I have to think about what I’m going to say, and then I worry about how they’ll take it- whether they’ll judge me or not. It’s a fucking cycle, and I really hate it. 

At first, this was all fine and good. Ashton told me about the horrors of his past- he had no friends at his old school, he was always bullied, and everyone made him feel like shit. It was kinda similar for me- and that’s why we both decided to start online schooling- we’re legally emancipated, it’s perfectly allowed. That takes away the threat of school bullies- so everything was good. I was under the assumption that Ashton was a complete introvert- like me- that never talked to people, and always hid behind his wall of music and shit.

Ashton is just that- except for the ‘never talked to people’ part. Ashton is one of the friendliest guys ever- and that is both a blessing and a curse. He’s really sweet, so everyone he meets is usually in a good mood after talking to him- but it also means that he’ll strike up conversations with strangers, while I’m forced to stand next to him awkwardly, not knowing what to do. 

The point of all of this- is that Ashton is starting to make more friends. He goes out more- and don’t get me wrong, he’s not drifting. He invites me to every excursion, I just politely decline, and come up with some half-assed excuse. Things like that make me extremely uncomfortable, and I’d rather not go through it. 

I don’t think he’s drifting- but the cuddles and kisses, it’s kinda gone down. He does show affection toward me, but not as much as he used to- and it’s starting to worry me. I feel like I’ve done something wrong, like I’ve done something to upset him or make him feel like he needs to distance himself from me, and I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m just not good enough for him- he’s an extrovert, and I’m a total introvert. He’s friendly and outgoing, I’m shy, awkward, and a total recluse. 

The guy who said opposites attract? He was off his fucking rocker. 

…

“Babe, I’m going out with the boys for a while!”

A door slams.

That’s all I hear anymore- Ashton telling me he’s going out, and then a slamming of a door. He doesn’t come up and tell me he loves me, like he used to do before he went out. And he doesn’t make sure the house is clean, so I don’t have to do much work, like he used to. I’m starting to think he’s forgotten I exist. 

It’s not a good feeling- not a good one at all. Growing up being neglected and abused, and now this, this hurts. A lot. I want Ashton to realize what he’s been doing to me- I don’t know what I’ve done wrong to deserve this. Have I hurt him in any way? If so, what the hell can I do to fix it? I just want my boyfriend back.

Wiping tears from my cheeks, I stand up, stumbling into the bathroom. I kneel down, reaching back into the cabinets, for a box of disposable razors. Ashton bought them a while ago- he said that the day we could shave with these would be a good day. That’d be the day we could throw out our electric razors, because we were strong enough to shave with disposable ones, and not have the urge to break them for the blade. 

I snort at the thought. I’m doing that very thing right now, and I don’t even feel remorse for doing it. I extract a razor from the box, before shoving it back into its hiding spot. Making sure the bathroom door is firmly locked, I move over to sit on the toilet, breaking the razor easily, and letting the blade fall into my palm.

The shining piece of metal is mesmerizing. I haven’t touched one in almost six months, this is big for me. 

“You’re so fucked up, Luke,” I tell myself bitterly. “Not even good enough for Ashton, such a fuck up.”

Rolling up my sleeve, I feel my eyes well with tears at the amount of white scars on my pale skin. Every single one is healed- but none have faded, a silent reminder of the torture I used to inflict on myself. 

I press the blade to my skin, knowing exactly what I’m about to do.

And maybe that’s why I feel no guilt, as I drag it across.

…

“Oi, Lukey, you planning on ever spending time with me?”

Louis’ voice is loud, as I walk toward his apartment. 

I force a weak smile. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“It’s about time.” Louis crushes me into his chest, hugging me tightly. He kisses my hair, dragging me inside the apartment. “You’re just in time. Harry’s baking a cake.”

“You make me sound like a wife!” Harry calls indignantly. 

“You’re fucking Betty Crocker, Haz,” I point out, motioning to his apron and chef’s hat. 

“Just go bake your cake, I wanna talk to my Lukey alone,” Louis tells him.

Harry scoffs. “Wow, love you too.”

Louis says nothing, dragging me into his and Harry’s shared bedroom. He locks the door, before turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. “Spill.”

“What?” I act oblivious- maybe if I act like I’m fine, he won’t suspect anything.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Luke,” Louis replies sternly. “I know you. I’ve been your best friend for over five years- there is nothing you can hide from me. So do us both a favor, and tell me straight out, because we both know that if you don’t, I will find out for myself.”

“It’s nothing, Lou,” I sigh. “Just me overreacting again, forget about it.”

Louis shakes his head. “What the hell are you on about? Tell me, so I can tell you that you aren’t overreacting, because I doubt you are.”

“Ashton’s just been going out a lot, and kinda being distant, and I’m just…I don’t know whether I’m good enough anymore. He’s so outgoing and friendly, and I’m just shy, awkward, stupid me…he deserves better…” I mumble, staring at the floor. I fiddle with my sleeves awkwardly, and Louis’ eyes widen.

“You didn’t…please tell me you haven’t started again!” He says desperately, dropping to his knees in front of me and looking up with heartbroken eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for not being good enough.” 

In one motion, I’m being pulled into an embrace, and then Louis pulls back to hold me at arms length. “Luke, you are better than good enough. You’re not stupid, and yes, you’re shy, but that doesn’t make you awkward. You’re beautiful- and Ashton sees it. I’m gonna fucking kill your boyfriend for doing this to you, you don’t deserve this shit. He’s such a fucking asshole, he’s dead the next time I see him.”

“No! Lou, I love him. He hurt me, but I still love him. Don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.”

Louis looks me in the eye. “You don’t worry. Let me handle this.”

…

“Lukey!”

I hear Ashton’s voice, loud and clear, as he barges into our flat. I’m sitting on the couch, staring blankly at a wall, with a few stray tears running down my cheeks. I assume Louis talked to him, and I’m gonna get a long, soppy apology, and then it’ll go back to normal in the next few days. 

“Oh, baby, you’re crying…” Ashton sits down next to me, and gently turns me to face him. When I catch sight of his face, my heart breaks. He’s crying too, with red, blotchy cheeks, and bloodshot eyes. He looks desperate and absolutely wrecked by this. 

“Louis talked to me, and oh my fucking god, Lukey…” Ashton whispers. “I had no idea I was neglecting you. I know what you’ve been through, and I never wanted to be one of the ones to hurt you.” He swallows hard, and the emotion in his voice is obvious. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t deserve to be forgiven, you don’t need to forgive me. I’d understand if you wanted to break up, I’m so sorry…I love you so much, I’m sorry…”

“Ashton!” I exclaim, shaking my head. “Where the hell did you get the idea that I wanted to break up with you?”

Ashton hangs his head. “I just thought…I hurt you…I made you relapse…I’m so horrible, Luke, I’m so disgusted in myself…”

“It’s okay, Ash,” I reply gently. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Ashton mumbles. “I need to put you first. You’re my priority, over everything, even myself…”

“Ashton, what?” I ask softly. “What do you mean?”

Ashton sighs. “You know, the real reason I’ve been going out so much and hanging out with people? I’m getting bad again, Lukey…the depression’s coming back, and I knew that if I didn’t do something, I’d relapse, and disappoint you…hanging out with all those people was a distraction, and I guess…it worked, but it worked too well…you’re never going to not be good enough for me. You’re so perfect, so beautiful, I just…I didn’t want to come to you, I didn’t want to trigger you or make you worry…”

It all makes sense now, and if my heart was breaking before…

It’s completely shattered now. 

I pull Ashton into my arms, hugging him tightly. He buries his face in my shoulder, just shaking, trying not to cry.

“I love you,” I whisper. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, and I understand why you did what you did…”

“Please let me make it up to you,” Ashton murmurs. “Let me spoil you and baby you and make you feel like a fucking prince. We’re not leaving this flat for the next three days, I’ll be your slave, anything…I just want to make sure you know how much you mean to me, and how fucking important you are.”

“You’re not a bad boyfriend, Ash,” I tell him. “You’re amazing.” Even though he hurt me, I know exactly what he was trying to do, and it negates whatever he’s done recently. He was just trying to stay okay for me, and I’m so proud of him for not relapsing. He needs to stop beating himself up over this, once he explained, I forgave him instantly. It’s just a matter of him forgiving himself. 

“I’m so shit,” Ashton whispers. “I’m so sorry.” He leans back, pushing up my left sleeve. A choked whimper escapes, as he takes in the fresh cuts on my wrist. “Oh my god…”

“Ash, shhh, it’s okay. This is over.” I pull my sleeve down, and hug him again, holding him close. 

“It’s okay, I promise. Everything’s okay. I love you. I love you so much, you didn’t mean it, everything is okay. We’re okay,” I promise him.

“I love you,” Ashton says. “I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I haven’t said it enough recently. You deserve to be showered in love, and I’m a horrible person for not doing that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next prompt. It's Malum, for a change. The request was: 
> 
> '3. Can you do a Malum because I really wan to know how Calum and Michael fall for each other! I have always been wondering on this one for the past few weeks and I have been rereading it over and over again trying to figure it out'
> 
> Enjoy.

I fucked up.

I knew that from the second the words left my lips. I fucked up so bad, Ashton hates me now. And he has a reason to- everyone in this damn facility has reason to hate me. Ashton’s been doing so well, and I just tore him back down again. He’s been doing well, and now he’s right back to square one. Hell, he wants to _kill_ himself because of me. I overheard him talking to the others about it- how he would’ve killed himself, had Michael not shown up in time. 

I feel like I shouldn’t even be in here. I deserve the torture of my own house. However, the doctors said I’d do well in a place like this. I’m on meds for depression and anxiety, sharp objects are a thing of the past, and now, I’m supposed to automatically start better. Only it isn’t that fucking easy.

I know that Michael gave Ashton a blade. It isn’t hard to find them. Breaking open a pencil sharpener is one of the easiest ways to acquire one, and damn, the nurses here don’t know shit. You’d think they’d realize how easy it is to get blades, but no, they’re in the dark to the entire thing. I doubt they even want to be here, so that makes two of us. The list of things I would rather be doing is way too damn long, trust me. 

I’m standing on the bridge behind the facility, turning over a blade in my hands. I hate feeling like this and having no one. I used to have Ashton, but I fucked that up, like I seem to do pretty well. He used to be there for me, and now he’s _scared_ of me. He’s my best friend, and god, do you even know how much it hurts to see your _best friend_ flinch when you walk into a room?

I’m so fucking pathetic. I’m the one at fault here, and I’m also throwing a damn pity party for myself. I’m feeling sorry for myself, and I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. I hate myself so much, and damn, if I wanna wallow in self-loathing, I’ll gladly do it, because there is no way I’m going to feel better about myself until Ashton starts talking to me again.

And I know that I have to make it up to him somehow, but I just…I don’t know how. I don’t even know if I deserve him as a friend anymore. I probably don’t, considering the way I’ve treated him. But fuck, I spend way too much of my time thinking about Ashton. Another thing that’s stressing me out is the fact that I find Michael extremely adorable, and he hates me. 

It seems crazy and rushed and stupid, but from the moment I saw him, I felt something different. He’s not like any of the guys I’ve ever met. He’s different, black clothes, dyed black and blue hair, but broken green eyes. One look into his eyes, and my heart shatters, because they’re so fucking dull, lost, and fearful. I know that he hates me, because of what I’ve done to Ashton, but I can’t help but find him cute. It’s weird, but it’s not like I can control it.

I doubt I’ll ever act on my feelings- especially since the guy fucking hates me. I fucked up, and I’m paying the price for it. It’s stupid, really, how one moment of stupidity can change your entire life. I hate the idea of that. I have fucking no one, and it’s killing me. Just because of one moment of no judgment, I have no one, and I’m so done with this.

I turn the blade over in my hands, running the pad of my finger against the sharp edge. It’s drawing me toward it, almost invitingly, and I hate how much I rely on it. I shouldn’t be relying on a piece of metal to get me through, but here I am, debating whether or not to press it into my skin.

“Don’t you dare.”

I whirl around, eyes widening at the figure that’s coming closer.

Michael pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one and inhaling, before addressing me again. He comes to stand beside me, looking down at the blade in my hand. “Don’t cut. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

“Quite hypocritical, considering you gave Ashton a blade,” I quip, refusing to meet his eyes.

Michael sighs. “I did it because he was hurting so bad from withdrawal, and I hated seeing him like that.”

“So, I’m different, just because I royally fucked up and lost him in a matter of five minutes? I somehow deserve the pain of withdrawal?”

“No,” Michael mutters. He exhales a ring of smoke, staring off into the distance. “You don’t deserve the pain. No one does. But either way, I’m not going to let you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” I grumble, tightening my grip on the blade.

As I’m about to press it to my wrist, a strong hand grabs my arm, holding it in an iron grip. I wince, struggling against the force. “Let me go!”

“If I drop your arm,” Michael says gruffly. “Are you going to cut?”

“No, fuck, just let me go!”

Michael complies, snatching the blade from my hand when he does so. I scowl at him. “Bastard.”

“Call me what you want, at least you’re not about to cut yourself.” Michael tosses the blade off the bridge, watching it land in the water with a tiny splash.

“Fuck you.”

Michael snorts. “Did you think that was easy for me? I’m trying to recover too, if you’ve forgotten. It’s not easy to toss a blade off a bridge, when all I really want is to sink it into my skin. You just need to have some strength, strength to resist temptation.” I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off, taking the cigarette from his lips. He turns to face me. “And you _have_ that strength. You have it. You’re just scared, and trust me, you gotta get over that.”

“I fucked up so badly, you hate me, why are you giving me advice?”

Michael exhales again. “Because I don’t hate you. Sure, I’m pissed that you hurt Ash, but I’m not gonna beat you up over it. Something tells me you’ve done enough of that, yourself. Just take my word for it, you’re in here for a reason, and if you fight treatment by cutting when you think no one’s looking, you’re not bringing your date any closer.”

“My date?”

“Your date for getting out of here.”

…

The next few days, weeks even, aren’t as bad as I thought.

Ashton forgives me eventually, I think my profuse apologizing must’ve gotten to him. And maybe Michael said something to him, because he was looking concerned as I walked in that day, after the conversation with Michael.

He doesn’t trust me yet, and I don’t expect him to, I’m just elated that he’s actually speaking to me again.

“Hey, can I hang here for a while?”

I glance up, nodding at Michael. He smiles weakly, pulling his DS out of his pocket and joining me on the bed. “Louis and Luke are being irritating, and Ashton is with Niall, trying to convince him to keep a meal down.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping Ash?” I ask softly.

Michael sighs. “I should be, just…it gets kinda overwhelming, having to coax Niall into not throwing up. And sometimes I just need to get away from it all for a while. My head starts to hurt, and that’s when I know that if I don’t get out of there, I’ll start to slip.”

“Slip?” I look at him curiously.

“My depression will start to take over. Thoughts, emotions, all that shit, starts to envelop me, if I let my guard down,” Michael explains, turning on his DS and selecting his Pokemon game.

“I never thanked you, y’know, for what you said on the bridge…” I trail off. He’s kind of intimidating, considering I might have what seems like a crush on him, and I don’t know what to say, that won’t make me sound weird. 

Michael glances at me. “Ash would’ve never forgiven me, if I had let you.”

“I don’t think that’s the only reason you did it.”

Michael sighs. “You remind me a lot of myself, Cal.”

“I’m only three months younger than you,” I mutter indignantly. “This is a conversation meant to be from someone who’s much older than me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Michael replies. “I…I started cutting right after my 12th birthday, and when I was around 13 or 14, I was where you are, relying on a blade, because my father was insistent on making me feel excessively worthless. And I know that your father’s not really home a lot, and your mum’s an alcoholic, so you probably have felt worthless before. It’s shit.”

“It is,” I agree. “I hate the feeling more than fucking anything.”

“Wanna feel worthless together?”

Michael’s question throws me for a loop, and I can tell he realizes it.

“I mean,” Michael backtracks. “Do you maybe wanna, I don’t know, hang out like this another time? We can talk about this shit, or we can talk about puppies and rainbows, your choice.”

“Are you…are you asking me out on a date?” I look at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend this.

“I wouldn’t call it a _date_ …we’re in a mental hospital, there’s only so much we can do,” Michael replies. “But if you wanna use the official term, then yes, yes I’m asking you out on a date.”

…

“I’m so fucking glad I asked you on that date a month ago.”

I giggle, as Michael kisses my neck. “Stop it! You’re gonna leave marks!”

“Who cares?” Michael looks up at me cheekily, and I glare at him.

“You’re not the one that has to explain them to the nurses, you bastard!”

Michael lifts his head, scooting up so he’s level with me. “Y’know, I really love you. And I really am glad I stopped you from cutting, that day…”

“You saved me from a whirlwind of depression, Mikey,” I murmur, resting my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Michael replies. “You saved yourself. You’re the one that fought long and hard to kick the self-harm addiction, and I couldn’t be more proud.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” I chide, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You’ve been doing well too, babe…”

“You’re doing so much better, you’re gonna be released soon, at this rate…” Michael mumbles. “And I’m just stupid ass Michael that can’t stop fucking cutting himself.”

“Mikey…” I sit up, pulling his body onto my lap. He buries his face in my chest, and I let him, trailing my hands down his back. “You’re doing well, baby, you’re doing your best.”

“It’s not enough,” Michael whimpers. “I’m not enough…”

“Shhh, you’re perfect,” I shush him, shaking my head. I coax him to lift his head up, so I can look him in the eye. “You are fucking beautiful, and I couldn’t love you any more than I do. I don’t care that you’re still cutting, you’re trying to stop, and you’re hurting. It’s okay. I love you.”

“But…”

“Stop,” I tell him firmly. “You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough for me. And for whoever thinks you’re not enough, they can fuck themselves, because you are absolutely _perfect_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get these up faster, it's just been a stressful few weeks. I only have three prompts left to do, so you guys can definitely request stuff. 
> 
> This prompt was: 
> 
> '4. Ashton is allergic to shrimp and doesn't really worry about it. Except one day luke goes out to to eat with Michael and has shrimp and then come homes an kisses ashton then ashton has an allergic reaction and has to be hospitalized. Luke blames himself then michael and calum comfort him. Calum tells him ashton is allgix to shrimp'
> 
> Enjoy.

The doorbell rings. 

I get to my feet and make my way to the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Michael is standing in front of me, scrolling through his phone. He glances up and smiles at me. 

“Hey, is Luke ready? He and I are going out to eat and hang out, I’m not sure if he told you…”

I nod. “Yeah, he’s just fixing his hair.” I whirl around, facing the rest of the flat. “LUKE! Michael’s here!”

“Coming!” He yells back. I see the light in the bathroom flick off, and then he appears, coming over to us quickly. Smiling at me, he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Bye, Ash. I’ll be back in a few hours, don’t wait up if you’re tired.”

“Oh yeah, Ash,” Michael snaps his fingers in realization. “Cal, Niall, and Grace went over to Harry and Lou’s, they’re all having dinner and shit there. Might end up staying over. I’m probably gonna have to go there and bring Cal home after Luke and I get back, he’s gonna fall asleep, no doubt. Cal said they want you there too.”

I smile. “Alright, maybe. I’ve got a couple things to do for school, so maybe afterward…”

Michael scoffs. “You actually do your schoolwork?”

“We both do,” Luke cuts in. “And Ash just has to finish an essay.” He turns to me. “Babe, go over to Harry and Lou’s. I don’t want you here alone…”

“Okay, I will,” I reply softly. Luke leans in to kiss me, and for a moment everything seems to fade away, until we’re interrupted by an indignant voice.

“I didn’t come over to watch a porno! Stop having lip sex!” 

I roll my eyes, as we pull away. “Love you, Lukey. Have fun, yeah?”

“I will. Bye babe,” Luke replies. I have to laugh, as he yelps in protest, Michael beginning to practically drag him down the hallway. Those two…I will never understand their friendship.

…

“Seafood okay?” Michael asks, eyeing a fish restaurant. I nod, following him in that direction.

“So, how’s Calum doing?” I ask, as we both file into the restaurant. Michael opens his mouth to answer, but he’s stopped by a waitress telling us to follow her, and seating us at one of the tables in the back of the place. She hands us menus, and Michael gives her a smile, as she walks off to give us time to order. 

“He’s good, we went to go see his mum in rehab last week. She’s doing better, which is good. He’s still really wary and nervous and shit, because of how neglectful she was, but he’s starting to kinda warm up to the fact that she’s sobered up,” Michael replies. 

“That’s good then…I mean, she probably treated him pretty shit…” I don’t meet Michael’s eyes, staring at the table. 

“Yeah…” Michael’s eyes are growing misty. “He’s told me how neglected he was, how broken it left it, shit like that…she’s just…she needed the help, and now she’s getting it, so that’s good.”

“You boys ready to order?”

The waitress breaks the awkward silence between us, and for that, I’m grateful. I nod. “I’ll have the shrimp scampi and lemonade, please.” I hand my menu to her, and we both glance over at Michael.

“Chicken stir fry and coke,” Michael says, handing his own menu over. “Thank you.”

…

Laughing, Michael and I stumble into Harry and Louis’ apartment. Michael was just telling me about something funny he saw on Tumblr, and it cracked me up. Tears are burning in my eyes because I’ve been laughing so much- but you can never _not_ laugh when you’re around Michael Clifford. 

“Hey guys,” Harry says softly. He motions down to the TV, where Toy Story is playing. Louis is fast asleep against his chest, Harry’s arms wrapped around the older boy’s chest to keep him steady. Niall and Grace are curled together on one side of the couch, and Ashton is sitting on the other side.

Calum is laying on the floor, sleeping soundly, a little bit of droll on his chin. Michael grins, scooting down next to his boyfriend. He wraps his arms around Calum, and the dark-haired boy jerks awake, smiling sleepily at Michael, and burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” I murmur, sitting down next to Ashton. He jolts awake, eyes widening. 

“Hm? Lukey, hi…” Ashton mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eyes adorably. “Did you have fun?”

I nod. “Yeah, babe, looks like you did too.”

“We talked, then watched movies until now…” Ashton replies groggily. “M’tired…”

“I know babe, let’s get you home, yeah?” I stand, holding out a hand to him. Ashton grabs my hand and uses it to pull himself up, but wobbles slightly. “Here, hang on, baby.” I lift him into my arms, shifting him so I’m carrying him bridal style.

“I can walk,” Ashton whines in protest. 

I roll my eyes. “And you can also _fall_. And I like carrying you, so let me take you home so we can sleep.”

Ashton nods against me, letting his head flop against my chest. I say a quick goodbye to Harry, before carrying him out the door, and back up to our apartment. 

Shouldering my way in, I kick the door shut behind me, and make my way to our bedroom. I lay Ashton down on the bed, before disappearing into the closet and taking off my jeans. I go back out into the room, where Ashton’s curled under the covers, reaching out for me poutily. 

“Come cuddle,” he mumbles. “Can’t sleep without you.”

I slip into bed, pulling him into my arms. “Love you, Ash,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his. “Love you so much.”

…

I wake to the sound of vomiting. 

There’s no one else in the apartment, other than…Ashton.

_Shit._

I stumble out of bed, running as fast as my legs will carry me, to the bathroom. The door’s open, so I run straight in, skidding to a halt and staring at my boyfriend.

Ashton is on his knees, vomiting violently. His red is blotchy and red as he finally lifts it, the fit ceasing. I open my mouth to say something, but he coughs dryly, gripping his throat as raspy, wheezed breaths bubble up his esophagus. He’s heaving dryly, almost choking on air, and it’s a scary thing.

“Ashton! Babe, what the hell is going on?! Are you sick?” I ask, dropping to my knees in front of him.

Ashton looks up at me dizzily, his eyes hazy. His pupils look dilated- this doesn’t look like any normal illness- something is wrong.

“C-Ca…lum…” Ashton chokes out hoarsely. “C…C…all”

I don’t have time to think right now, so I just nod, pulling out my phone and placing a quick call to Ashton’s best friend. Hopefully, he’ll know what to do, because I’m fucking confused and absolutely terrified. 

Calum says he’ll be up right away, and I breathe a sigh of relief, wincing as Ashton turns back to the toilet, throwing up the little food he has left in his stomach. I don’t know what brought this on…he didn’t seem sick yesterday…I carried him up here and he wasn’t even warm…this makes no sense…

I hear thudding footsteps, and another sigh of relief overcomes me, as I rub Ashton’s back gently. 

“Whoa, fuck!” I feel another body drop next to mine, and Calum waits until Ashton’s stopped throwing up to turn the boy around and look into his eyes.

“Luke, call an ambulance!”

“W-What?” I ask sluggishly, a sick feeling evident in my stomach. _I_ might be sick in then next few seconds, if Calum doesn’t tell me what the _hell_ is going on with my boyfriend.

“Has he accidentally eaten anything with shrimp in it?!” Calum asks desperately. 

I start to shake my head, but then it hits me. “No, but I had shrimp last night with Mikey, and then I kissed him…”

“Fuck…he’s allergic to shrimp! He’s having a severe allergic reaction! We gotta get him to the ER before he passes out!”

…

“He’s gonna be fine, they’re giving him epinephrine, and he’s gonna be perfectly okay.”

“Thank fucking god,” I whisper, as Calum sits down beside me. “Can I go see him?”

“In a few minutes,” Calum replies. “They’re just making sure he gets oxygen and shit, his body went through a lot…he couldn’t exactly breathe…”

“Fuck…I’m so fucking stupid…” I whimper, hiding my face in my hands. “This is all my fault, he could’ve _died_ …I’m such a horrible boyfriend…”

“No you’re not,” Michael says firmly. “You didn’t know. You made a mistake. It’s not like you intended for any of this to happen. It is _not_ your fault.”

“He’s my fucking boyfriend, I should know if he has allergies…I shouldn’t be the reason he couldn’t _breathe_ and had to be _hospitalized_ …”

“It’s not your fault,” Calum repeats, rubbing my back. “It’s not. And Ashton is going to tell you the same thing.”

“You don’t have to believe us,” Michael tells me. “But you do have to believe Ashton, because he wouldn’t lie to you.”

…

“Hi, baby.”

Ashton smiles, reaching for me, as I walk into his room. Taking in the multiple wires and tubes…my heart breaks at the sight. This is my fault. He’s here because of me. All the wires, all the tubes, it’s all because of me…

My eyes start to water, as I stop in the doorway. “N-No…I don’t wanna hurt you…I’ll stay here…” I whisper, looking down at my feet.

“Lukey,” Ashton murmurs. “Stop that. Come here.”

I’m standing at his bedside before I’ve even registered my feet moving. Hesitantly, I reach out and grab his hand. Ashton squeezes tight, looking up at me earnestly.

“It’s not your fault,” he says. “Stop blaming yourself. I’m fine.”

“You were throwing up…and you couldn’t breathe and you almost passed out!” I cry. “And all because I kissed you with the taste of shrimp on my lips!”

“You didn’t know,” Ashton says gently. “You didn’t have any idea I’m allergic. If you did, I doubt you would’ve even come near me, after eating shrimp. And it’s alright, I’m fine now. I just needed that shot, and I’m good.”

“I’ll still always blame myself…it’s my fault you’re in here, my fault all these wires are connected to you…all my fucking _fault_!” My voice is much louder, the anger toward myself consuming me. 

“Lukey,” Ashton repeats. “Come here, babe, don’t cry…”

My eyes are reddening from all the crying I’ve done, tears making their way down my face in crystalline tracks. I look like shit, and Ashton can probably tell.

He opens his arms, and I hesitate, but Ashton practically pulls me onto the bed, holding me tightly to his chest.

“Listen to me,” Ashton says, firmly but softly. “It was _not_ your fault. You didn’t know- you couldn’t have known. I’m perfectly fine, and you know now not to kiss me when you’ve just had shrimp. I’m okay, everything’s okay, just relax, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too…” I whimper, burying my head in his chest. “I’m so sorry…”

“Shhhh, just relax,” Ashton replies. “I’m okay. You don’t have to apologize. Everything’s fine, Lukey. Everything is fine. We’re okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is 
> 
> "5. Ashton's doing fine with Luke but then Luke makes a new friend and leaves Ashton out and Ashton starts to feel worthless and so relapses and ten his parents find him ands yet he attempts to commit suicide because of it but Michael finds him in time and in hospital all the guys comfort Ashton and make him feel better is that okay?"
> 
> Enjoy.

Fucking Adam.

Everything was going fine, until he came into the picture. Luke and I were fine, until he decided to wreck it all- tear the perfect union Luke and I had to shreds. We met him a few weeks ago, and he appealed to Luke immediately. Luke bumped into him, and Adam was really nice about it, and I guess Luke was shocked that someone could be that nice to him. Needless to say, they hit it off.

They hit it off, and now I know what Luke felt like, when I used to go out all the time and never take him with me. Is this payback for it? If it is, it fucking hurts, and I’ve definitely learned my lesson. Mine wasn’t intentional- I was trying to prevent a relapse, but I think all my efforts were in vain. It wasn’t easy, forcing myself not to cut- and now, I want to do it more than ever.

Luke’s never home, and whenever he is, he’s always with Adam. Michael’s tried to talk to him, but Luke just brought Adam over and introduced us…that was awkward. It almost looks like Adam is trying to make a move on my Lukey, even though he knows Luke is clearly taken. He’s taking advantage of Luke’s obliviousness, and it hurts so bad. Every time he kisses me on the cheek and leaves the house, my heart throbs with pain.

I thought that surrounding myself with people would help me stop the urges to cut, but I’ve found that the cure is actually Luke. Cuddling with him, and doing anything really- watching TV, going on tumblr, reading, just helps. Feeling his presence helps me so much. He’s helping me, and he doesn’t even know it. 

But now, he’s gone, and having him gone hurts me so much. I need him. I fucked up, by letting him think he was abandoned. I need him. He’s everything to me. 

“Ash?”

Blinking, I focus back to the present, sighing. “Sorry, Cal. Just lost in thought.”

“You okay?” Calum asks gently. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around myself. “I feel worse than I look.”

“Physically or mentally, or both?” Calum questions, reaching up to feel my forehead. “You’re not warm…”

“Mentally,’ I reply, my voice cracking. “I’m not okay, Cal…it hurts…”

“Fuck…” Calum sighs. “Where’s Luke? I’m your best friend, but he can do so much more for you, than me…”

“Out with Adam,” I whisper. “Like always. He doesn’t have time for me anymore. I’m not important to him anymore.”

…

Stumbling dizzily into the bathroom, I grope around weakly, feeling for a blade. My vision is blurry with tears- I need relief. My fingers finally close around the sharp metal, and I sit down on the toilet seat, hand shaking, as I drag the blade down my wrist multiple times, just shaking to feel the pain.

My mother and father somehow got ahold of my new cell number, and I was jut screamed at for the past half hour. The weight of my depression and self-depreciation is weighing down on me, and god, I feel like I’m drowning. My chest is tight, and I can barely breathe. Is this what drowning feels like?

By the time I can breathe again, my arm is hidden underneath sticky blood. Grimacing at the sight, I reach for a towel, pressing it tightly to my wrist to stop the bleeding. It hurts like hell, but I don’t mind the pain. I don’t mind how bad it hurts, because it distracts me from the mental onslaught. It distracts me from how bad Luke’s neglect hurts, how badly my parents’ words sting, and how bad my depression is getting. 

I didn’t think I’d ever get as bad as I was, just before checking into Riverfront. But, I seriously think I’m starting to get that bad again…the suicidal thoughts are venomous, and I can’t get rid of them. Everything is closing in on me, and I’m about to break. I don’t mean break, as in fall apart and get put back together again, I mean break, as in shatter.

Shatter into unfixable pieces, unable to put up with how much this hurts. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I feel so fucking alone, and not having Luke here to offset it all is making everything so much fucking worse.

I’m so close to offing myself for good. I don’t think Luke got this bad when I was out with friends, maybe because Louis set me straight before that could happen. Calum and Michael have tried, _Louis_ has even tried to hint that Luke’s been neglecting me, but nothing’s seemed to work, and I’m just getting worse and worse, as the days pass. 

…

“I’m gonna go get ice cream with Adam, I’ll be back soon,” Luke tells me, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, before grabbing his jacket and slipping out the door.

I’m numb.

I don’t feel anymore.

Luke seems to keep brushing me off, and I’m just done trying to get his attention. I haven’t spoken very much in the past two days, and he’s barely noticed. My long sleeves have returned, and he’s said nothing. I don’t eat that much, and he doesn’t even seem to care. 

I’m such a mess, and he doesn’t give a damn. No one gives a damn. Calum’s stopped coming by as much, apparently Michael’s been going through a rough patch as well, so he’s attaching himself to his boyfriend. At least Michael has his boyfriend. 

I don’t even know why I’m still here. Luke obviously likes Adam better, so why hasn’t he officially ended it, and gone running to the other guy? Adam is obviously better than me in more ways than one. 

I sigh, closing my fingers around the blade in my sweatshirt pocket. Luke doesn’t care, either way, so why can’t I just end it and be done? Why do I feel so much regret- like I’d hurt him if I died? He’s hurting me, and he doesn’t care, so why should I?

I feel tears burn my eyes, but I blink them away, swallowing hard. I roll my sweatshirt sleeve up, staring at all the red lines and fresh cuts. There are so _many_ , and it’s all so _beautiful_. Grotesque patterns are forming within the lines, and it’s just mesmerizing. 

Call me crazy, fucked up, weird as hell, whatever you want. But when you’re as broken as I am, you’ll understand.

…

I’m dizzy. 

I can’t feel my limbs and I’m so dizzy. 

Am I dead? I don’t know what’s going on, I’m confused and my mind is foggy. My vision is blurred and distorted- I’m seeing stars. I can’t form coherent thoughts, all I know is that my right wrist is stinging agonizingly, and I can’t move. 

“Fuck, Ashton!”

I blink dizzily, the dark feeling growing stronger. I don’t know who that is and if they expect me to answer, too bad. I can’t see and I’m gonna pass out. 

“Hang on for me Ash, please, you gotta!” Something is pressed to my wrist, and it makes the pain worse. I try to scream, but no words come out. The blackness is growing, enveloping me with cold claws.

I don’t know how long has passed, before I’m gone.

…

I wake to white.

At first I wonder whether I’m in heaven…but then I hear crying, and my vision focuses. 

_Hospital._

“Wha happened…?” I croak, wincing at the pain in my throat.

“Oh my god, Ash!” A body throws itself at me, and that’s when I realize it’s _Luke_.

“Luke…?” I whisper.

“I’m so sorry…” Luke whispers, climbing up so he’s sitting on my chest, leaning down to press kisses all over my face. “I’m so fucking sorry I haven’t been there for you, I’m such a horrible person. I’m so sorry you had to break, and I wasn’t there to catch you when you fell. I love you so much, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s…” I don’t want to say okay, because it _isn’t_ okay. 

“It’s not okay,” Luke says hoarsely. “This is my fault.”

I scoot up, sitting against the pillows. “Why’d you leave me, Lukey…? I said I was sorry for leaving you…”

“Oh god, baby, this isn’t because of that!” Luke cries. “I just got caught up in Adam, and I didn’t even realize what it was doing to you…”

“I was hurting so bad, Lukey…” I whimper. “Needed you so bad…”

Luke swallows hard. “I’m so sorry. Come here babe, let me hold you.” He scoots in next to me, and I turn onto my side, burying my face in his chest, and finally letting myself cry.

“I’m sorry,” Luke whispers against me. “I’m here now. I’m never leaving you again. You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. I’m going to help you. I love you.”


End file.
